The Campaign Builder's Guild

Ah-hah. I was looking for these! If anyone is still considering joining and still has unasked question regarding how to approach playing, well, this is actually a very good example set of orders!

They can be shorter, they can be longer; however you feel best conveys your intentions. You could even write me a poem of orders if you really wanted to.

[ic=A Letter to Hugo de Vinti]It is my duty to serve the Commune of Rome as best as I am able. If you require my military experience, then you shall have it. My advice on such matters is likewise at your service, Consul. As for our siege engines, I will tell you that we have none. Instead we have the knowledge required to build them. Such things are cumbersome to move about, and so we have none assembled and at the ready - rather, they are built at the site of the siege in which they are to be used. I had heard, however, that Fortis Calafatus had at some point prepared a store of ammunition for these catapults. As to whether this stockpile exists or its location, I could not say. But certainly it would not be difficult to prepare additional stones - merely tedious.

Senator Roberto Basile[/ic]

[ic=A Letter to Otto von Wittelsbach]Signore,

I will attest that Consul Viviani is a man of great patriotism, and neither coward nor traitor. Oddone Frangipani arrived quite suddenly in the contado with his army, and the Roman militia was mustered with haste to confront him. The Consul's decision was motivated by consideration for the greater welfare of Rome. The Frangipanist knights outnumbered the knights of the City more than two to one, and their force was far the fresher. Likewise we had not yet heard of your own successes in the north, Signore, and so after much deliberation the Consul yielded passage of the bridge. The Consul and many milites believed this discretion warranted in order to preserve the fighting capacity of the City's militia for a battle whose circumstance could be dictated by the Romans and not by the enemy. The Romans are courageous, and I have fought among them many times on the field. They will fight bravely and well should they be called upon to do so.

Senator Roberto Basile[/ic]

[ic=A Letter to Otto von Wittelsbach]Signore,

The Romans have heard of your victories - and surely it should be no other way, for the Imperial cause is that of peace and rightness. The fears of the Senate and the popolo alike are assuaged, knowing that Viterbo shall not support the schismatic Cardinal Bandinelli. I have not forgotten my oath to serve the Emperor, and I am forever mindful of this declaration. Though the Consular office is no longer my own, I will do my utmost to ensure the faithful action of the Senate. I have been appointed by that body as the chief judge of the Roman court, and in that capacity I shall enforce the proscriptions of Imperial law. If there is any service that the Emperor should desire of me, then I shall carry it out.

Senator Roberto Basile[/ic]

[ooc=Orders for Winter 1160]- Basile shall devote [2 WP] of his own silver to begin fortifying the Tabularium as a strong-point and armory. The treasury shall not be left vulnerable again (if it were more than a few copper buttons and cobwebs, anyways). He will supervise this project on behalf of the Senate, seeing to the procurement of trustworthy masons and builders - those who have worked for Basile in the past, and who would be glad to continue receiving his patronage. A small measure, but perhaps of value when fortifying a store of currency and valuables.

- As a member of the Lesser Council Basile shall assent to the treaty with Nepi.

- Basile will begin seeking a buyer for his properties in the Campus Martius. Owing to the fire-sale prices these properties were acquired at - and the fact that the land has already been cleared of wreckage - Basile has anticipated a healthy return on this investment. As there is likely more profit to be made through sale to a single buyer, Basile shall investigate if there are any noble or ecclesiastical parties interested in the purchase of a large tract of land in the centre of Rome.

- In his office as primo guidice Basile shall make clear that justice has indeed returned to the city. The criminal will be made to pay for his crimes, as prescribed by the Corpus Juris Civilis - and other legal traditions where appropriate. Basile will avail himself of the legal advice afford him by Rome's nascent university. The pesceneri will continue to act as agents of the court, enforcing its decrees and sentences - by the sword, if necessary. The law must be respected by the people, and a healthy dose of fear should help serve that purpose. Roberto will take time to ensure his familiarity with the written digests available to him, that his own legal knowledge should improve.

- Basile shall investigate the current procedures and resources of the court, and consider what might be done to improve its working. He shall consult with Magister Placentianus on this issue, inquiring after the legal administration and practice of other cities.

- Basile will assist in the coordination of the militia assembly drill, wherein the citizenry shall be notified in advance of the week in which the surprise drill shall take place - though we will specify no further as that would run counter to our purpose. The importance of this exercise will be stressed, owing to the danger posed to the city by a muster carried out as slowly as the last one. Militia training exercises will still be carried out this season according to standard practice, as per usual. A count of the militia (pedites, balistarii and equites will be performed to facilitate the Imperial Marshal's request, and an an enumeration provided to him within the timeframe given - if for whatever reason we don't have an accurate count we will provide our best estimate.[/ooc]

[ic=Before the Senate]Senators! Let us not lose our heads to the madness of foreign breads! There are matters of gravity before us. We have heard some Senators chastise Consul Viviani for his conduct in the defense of our city, we have heard his boldness disparaged. Let me make this clear, Senators: in matters of war, boldness displayed untempered by wisdom is the sign of a foolish captain. The Consul defended our city and the contado, ensuring no harm befell us. Had Oddone Frangipani burned the northern fields, do any here think that this would not precipitate crisis of the gravest danger to our Commune? And indeed, let us consider with greater clarity the words of Consul de Vinti. Oddone Frangipani is now confined to his Faliscan fiefs. With the proper strategy he could be cut off from his other lands and from Cardinal Bandinelli's partisans in the Latina valley. The Signore would face the Imperial Marshal afore him, and the Romans behind. This situation can be approached to our advantage.

But like the rest of you I consider the capabilities of our militia. They have proven themselves in battle, and their ardour and spirit are not to the question. More, it is the concerns of preparedness and organization that should come to our attention. I will propose then that we should put quick assembly to the test. Let a week be chosen, and let it be known to the citizens that within this period they shall be called suddenly to the assembly - at a time to be determined in secret by our esteemed consuls. Our citizens, I think, are wise enough to understand the utility of such measures. Our very lives may depend on it.

Further, I will propose the establishment of an armory at the Tabularium, to lay away bolts and shields and spears. The fortification of this structure will serve likewise to protect the city's treasury, and it shall be a statement to the city and to Latium that the position and authority of the Senate is secure. I have overseen the security of this building since its ravishment by the popolo. In my initial investigation I determined that it is a sturdy structure, well built by our ancient forebears. Indeed, such modification and reinforcement will be quite affordable, and well within the means of this august body. The Senate's palatini and the loyal armsmen of the Lesser Council together should well be able to man this new castle. If the Senate and the Consuls should agree with this proposal, I myself will provide [2WP] in good silver to hire laborers and provision materials to begin construction, and I will call upon my fellow Senators to likewise provide what they can for the security of the Eternal City and its Commune.[/ic]  

[ic=In the Lesser Council]I will offer you the thanks of the Romans, Consul de Vinti. This arrangement is of undoubted benefit to our city. Peace, indeed, is the pursuit of God. If none else here should object, I do not see why we should not inform the Consuls of Nepi of the Lesser Council's assent at our best convenience. As to Signore Anguillara, it is true that di Vico is his nemesis. His desire to see the man stymied, at the least, can only be genuine. Indeed, is the word of the Emperor not also in our favour here? He has told us to accept no Prefect save from the Imperial Crown - if we should frustrate di Vico in his intent it would uphold the spirit of Imperial authority. If this Prefect is declared we will have no choice but war - I will not see Rome suffer the interference of a Prefect who desires to enrich his own purse at the expense of the Romans, who desires to lord over the Eternal City and our Senate. If Rome requires my experience in matters of war, Consul de Vinti, she shall have it. Though we cannot divest the city of its defenders in these troublesome times, no doubt a considerable contingent could safely be mustered and dispatched. More than enough to dispense with di Vico, if Signore Anguillara comes through on his end of the bargain. In this instance alone, Consul, perhaps it is best to dispense with formalities. Do we want known records of these arrangements, when such could be used against us by some Emperor or Pope in the unknown future? No, I think it best we play the matter closely and with some discretion - at least for the moment.[/ic]

OOC: Polycarp, I swear at some point you provided me a costing on elevating the security level of the Tabularium. I recall clearly that with the minor repairs done it is Security 1, but I can't seem to find the message or post that I'm thinking of.

No worries, Pym! I'm planning on getting some stuff up this weekend.

It is pretty great. I'm looking forward to zubmarines.

[ic=The Hall of Horace]Level: 3

A great grey arch yawns wide, dusty blackness within. In the distance the echo and clatter of screams and shouts, the clash of arms. Those who peer within feel a pressure upon their backs and hear old whispers in their ears. Listen closely, think intently - if your will should falter your legs shall carry you forward irresistibly. A dim grey light suffuses the air here, and the floor is strewn with dry brown leaves. The weight of judging eyes is upon you. The cold stone hall stretches into the distance, its roof borne up by ornate columns carved with birds and flowers and words in flowing script.

If your knowledge should avail you, you will know that this is the ancient language of Dram - the City of Soaring Boughs. But the words are strung together as nonsense, and meaning eludes you. There is a story you recall, though, that long ago the bold Prince Horace and his ten Companions ventured within the dungeon's trackless depths. They sought knowledge of an ancient spell, a spell that should return joy to Dram - a city long bereft.

The keen-sighted will espy in the distance a silver throne upon a tall dais. The walk feels as an eternity, and your legs begin to ache. You stand before it, and strangely you feel uplifted, as if all the oppressive weight of rock and earth above you has of a sudden vanished. A slender sword of azure hue leans upon one side of the empty throne, a deadly lance of dark steel upon the other. A voice speaks, and shadows cavort upon the walls.

"I have watched as you have trod in my footsteps, here in this wicked place," he says. "I am Horace, and here buried I remain. They do not dare disturb my rest, and so you may take your ease."

Ten wraiths rise behind you, hoary old ghosts fraying at the edges, garbed in all the trappings of the ancients. "For a moment, at the least," he continues.

A bargain is proposed. Retrieve the melcifer of delight from the Weaver's Creche and bring it thence. Horace will grant to any who should assent either his sword or his lance, that it's power should avail this hero or villain in their task.

"Do this and you will have the service of my Companions so long as you should travel Beneath. Betray me, and I shall set them as hounds upon your trail. I was a fool in life, I shall not be so in death."[/ic]

I mentioned this, of course, but I am quite interested to see how you present things from the PoV of the Rozierey, Chief!

That is something I can probably do, Superbright! Maybe a little challenging for me to decide what precisely to put in it, but it is definitely a good idea.

I'll look into that this weekend if I have the time.

Quote from: SteerpikeIt has sort of King James rhythms, and definitely something of the Silmarillion to it, including the density of its references. To quote a spy in the House of Hands, who might be speaking of the setting: "There are numerous strange workings and phenomena here, many incomprehensible to my limited understanding."

The Silmarillion has had some fairly significant influences on Our Terrible Purpose - it was probably my favourite book growing up. So I'm glad that some of its qualities are reflected. Sometimes I do wonder if the density and the style are overbearing. Or if the partial incomprehensibility is ever frustrating - I've tried to make to make it feel appropriate and.. core to the experience, kind of. It's my hope that this allows the reader to add to or alter the narrative on their own. Part of this is presenting different perspectives. Has it been successful though? I'm not sure! That's why this thread is here, I suppose. And thanks, Rose!

Thanks Weave! I appreciate the compliment. If there's any poetry to it I assure you it's only incidental, that's just the way it falls out of my head. Can't take too much credit.

I'm definitely interested to hear what you have to say about it once you've given it a look over. And don't feel that you have to read all of it - unless you want to, of course.

Something that I think would be interesting regarding the 'matrix-archaeologists' would be how cultural memories and legends differ from what actually occurred in the past. With access to that kind of information these people would probably have a very different perspective on the world than everyone else. I'm interested to see what you come up with, Weave!

Hey CBG! I'm sure many of you may have seen my narrative forum game, Our Terrible Purpose. But what you might not know is that it isn't only a game! That's right, it's a setting too. Two in one - I know I'm impressed. So anyways, I'm essentially just interested in hearing what people think about it in general. Tell me what you like, tell me what you hate. Maybe my writing annoys you. Maybe you think the names I make up are stupid. Maybe you really really like maneating zirrafs and you think I should add more! Now is your chance to tell me. I would like Our Terrible Purpose to continue improving as I go forward, and I think seeing and considering the thoughts of my esteemed colleagues in setting design is likely a good way to go about doing just that! Also a shoutout to Steerpike and Salacious Angel for producing some inspiring content over the years.

Known Potential Issues:
- Organization; it can be hard to sift through.
- Obfuscation; yeah I'm pretty guilty.

I would also be more than happy to answer as many questions as you'd care to field. Feel free to discuss all aspects of OTP and its gamification. Over to you.

They were eating lunch together, just as they often did. The canteen was nearly empty. A few men and women ate languidly in small groups, exhausted by the summer heat. Two only seemed untroubled: Muhr of Zartogog, honoured guest to Karkeron, and John Harsing, that city's most able captain. These two rarely spoke at length, but they seemed comfortable in company with one another.

Watching Muhr eat was fascinating in a gruesome way, and John could admire the efficiency. A whiff of jasmine. Sickly sweet, his stomach turning suddenly. John coughed to cover his discomfort. "It is not a good smell," Muhr said, mumbling over a mouth stuffed full of fried plantains. "It is made from anger and despair. Zirrafs have little else left to them. I do not envy you." John considered his response for a moment, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. Engaging Muhr in conversation was always difficult. You had to pick your words carefully. John had never been a very good conversationalist. He decided to take a direct approach.

"Why is that?" he asked, fingers crossed beneath the table. Muhr kept on eating. John waited. He could always wait – he was a very patient man. Eventually the wizard had tucked away his meal. He wiped his mouth and took a long drink of cool water.

"I will tell you a story we tell our children in Zartogog. It is a story of the Alphar," he said. "There was war long ago between the Alphar and the Coathes, for they disagreed mightily with one another. But as both became wiser and older they saw that there was no reason for their strife, and with much embarrassment they made a promise to be good neighbours and to live in peace and quiet. But what was their argument? If you ask an Alph she would say that it is long forgotten. This answer may do for Alphar, but we are men. Knowledge is our desire. It was a question that all must ask, of course. How do we live in the world? The Coathes gave one answer, and the Alphar another. 'We must take what we need to live, but there is not enough for us here. We will bring it from elsewhere and it will sustain us,' the Coathes said. 'No,' the Alphar replied 'What we need is all about us and within us. Look and you will see.' Many bitter years later both knew that the other was right, and that each was also wrong. And so no longer did they look for knowledge, for they realized they were no longer men. But in Zartogog we are men, and in Zartogog we are wizards. It is the duty of the wizard never to cease in his search for questions. But a wizard must remember that he is a man, so that he will not cease in his search for answers. We learn the lessons of those who came before us, and we reconcile what they could not." Muhr cocked his head to one side as his words faded, his brown eyes expectant. John really didn't know what to make of it.

"But the Alphar are long dead. Before the War, before I was born," John said. Muhr shrugged.

"I have seen two amongst the Rozierey since I have been in Karkeron, John. Perhaps you have not met them? They told me that they were guests as well. We spoke of pleasant walking trails in the hills nearby," he said, hands folded contentedly. John swept to his feet and rushed out of the hall, knocking over chairs in his haste. Muhr had never seen him move so quickly.

-----


On the shores of the Fugue Seas and on the island of Essely there are fourteen cities. This in itself I find remarkable, as barely two centuries past this entire region was an uncivilized wilderness. This curious phenomenon must certainly be attributed to the migrations of foreign peoples into the region amidst and following the Demonaion. Most prominent among these cities is Sensinsal, which I will now describe for your Majesty's benefit. It is a gaudy and primitive sprawl, but well-organized and well-disposed to serve the basic needs of its populace. If I should grant the Sensileans any praise it will be for their pleasant and airy public spaces. They unquestioningly believe their city to be the greatest left in the world; it is at most one third the size of your Majesty's own capital.

Sensinsal is the seat of a witch of immense power who grants herself the title Empress and lordship over many lands – a direct challenge to and usurpation of the rights of the Drakkanthron, I will note. This so-called Empress has gathered to herself many other witches of lesser talent, and they are eager to serve her and win her favour - that they might be granted those skills which she secrets to herself. At the heart of the city lies a living edifice which the people name the Shuddering Palace. It is intensely aware of all that transpires within and about it, seeing through its thousand eyes, tasting with its thousand tongues. It is utterly devoted to the witch, and as it grows so too does its capability. It has been necessary to adjust my concealment several times – it may not be looking for me, but it is always looking. It is my suspicion that this creature is Angalan in origin, though I do not know how the witch should have come into its possession.

In light of these and other revelations the dispatch of further southern colonies may become necessary, and is indeed my recommendation. This matter will require further consideration in council by the Drakkanthron and the Emissariat on my return.

~ Cayanos Yetho

-----


The earth rumbles and groans. Churning steel and churning stone. The clangor and hiss of the drill room locked away neatly behind glass. The whirling of red-hot engines, the twisting bursts of steam, the bellowing of white-coated engineers and the the fraught scrambling of harried technicians. Silence, save for a deep vibration trembling on the air and beneath their feet. The Facilitator turned to regard the Doctor. Young, trim, and motivated. A perfect product, just as the Facilitator was himself.  

"At its current rate of descent the Bore will reach targeted depth within three days, Facilitator. Temperatures have exceeded our projections, and lower viscosity of transiting mantle materials has required a decrease in rotation for the safety of the equipment. Our insulators are proving sufficient, and transfer rates should not be effected," she said.

"If you would spare me the details, Doctor. The Collaborate only requires that the project be ready to move ahead as scheduled. The minutiae are not my concern - they are yours, or they will become those of your replacement," the Facilitator said, his words curt and crisp. The Doctor's eyes hardened, and he could almost feel the heat of her ire. It didn't bother him. "You understand the necessities," he continued, "Your office would suffer gravely were this operation to fall behind,"

"Oh, I understand quite well, Facilitator. More than most, I suspect" she said, her tone - so carefully controlled – in sharp contrast to the plain anger on her face. "I have no concerns that we will be unable to deliver as promised. You can tell that to the Collaborate."

"I will," he said. "In three days, then, I hope to be toasting your success. A relaxing proposition. More so than the dissolution of our partnership and the immediate review of this entire department." The Doctor only smiled in response. The Facilitator smiled back.

-----


Wisest Teachers,

My infiltration of the encampment has been successful. There are numerous strange workings and phenomena here, many incomprehensible to my limited understanding of anomes. Most that are sensible to me are the work of the Sevander. These seem altered somehow from their original purpose; contorted at their edges. The zirraf has raised a strange edifice atop the rotting and haunted castle Tarnidine. The blasted towertops shine wetly, coated in and latticed with some dark and lustrous material. They call it the House of Hands.

Concerning Tarnidine's previous occupants the corpses of several grimbles are displayed publicly and prominently for the amusement of the masses: impaled on tall metal spikes, limbs twitching and wailing, bodies scored with deep oozing rents. Of the Sevander there is not even a whisper, and I could not say what has become of it. Perhaps the zirraf slew it, or perhaps it is fled elsewhere. I do not know.

Among the host of hosts that rings itself around the castle and through the surrounding countryside it is not difficult to remain undetected. The people are unruly and many are destitute. There are seven bands of armed men in the outer encampments, each at least ten thousands strong. They call themselves weskari, and they have brought their wives and their children. Amidst the weskari bands are three  mounds of distal sharps, digging warrens and raising hills. The men shy away from the dwellings of the sharps, and the weskari have made funneling trenches and raised fences in the fields between them. These mounds reportedly have exhibited similar behaviour to those destroyed ninety-seven years ago in the vicinity of Guringweg, though I have as yet observed no predation and little violence.

Further inwards are encamped the Maruwe, tall and pale as snow, dark-haired and dark-eyed. They hail from the land of Naghir, a far southern realm. Their well-spirited joviality contrasts sharply with their love of cruelty. They are slaveholders, and the suffering of their chattel is immense. Many among their slaves are recently taken Wealdings. The Maruwe have been hired in some capacity, though the terms of their contract with the zirraf are incomprehensible to me. The others here in the outer circles are insular, alien, or hostile and I have been unable as of yet to ingratiate myself with any among them. The inner encampments are closely guarded by the zirraf's servants and spells, and Tarnidine itself I can spy only from a distance. At this juncture I will estimate that zirraf-by-the-water has at his command a quarter-million fighters. This numbering does not account for the Akte and Chirew centaurs, who have been sent forth into Rem, and who I have not observed.

-----


On the islands dwell the Essels. They are hardy and spry, and make good shepherds and urchin-divers. The sling is their weapon, and for its skillful use they are renowned across the Fugue Seas. They have moved further inland over the course of the past century, pushed out by Phoadrim settlement. This seems of benefit to their society more than hindrance. Though there is some contention still among their tribes, they raise two cities on good ground: Hycan and Elyx. The Essels are not naturally a city-dwelling people, but they are clever and take to its practices quickly.  

The great Aptons of the islands often act as patrons to the Essel tribes, and in this endeavour they make no exception to their practice. The Fisher-Kings have granted much of their treasure to the city of Hycan, that the Essels there can swiftly raise great edifices through the provision of foreign expertise. They race to catch the Essels of Elyx, who have been aided in their labours by the earthen magics and careful planning of the Crag Ravens. Both cities have built tall tower-eyries to accommodate their benefactors. It would be wrong to mistake this for servitude – these relationships have always been symbiotic.

-----


"I am King of the Wood and Wild, and you stand upon my shore. Who are you?" Avring said, a veil of polished river-stones hanging to hide his orange-fire eyes. He was tall like a giant, but lithe and fine to look at. He had three long manes about his neck: red, brown and gold. He had bit clean and eaten the Sorcerer's leg - he had gouged an aching cut upon his back. He had stalked the Sevander beneath the trees and made it cower in a hole until the fickle light of dawn. He had lain in wait for the Royal Hunt, striking quick to slay many of Rhomes' best companions. He was a brute and he was a beast.

"If I stand upon your stolen shore then I am zirraf-by-the-water. This seems as fit a name as any. I have come this way with purpose and I have brought a host of hosts. You will let me pass, and I shall take all that I require. As you have stolen so shall I," the zirraf said in reply, his coat of stars shining brightly.

No more words were needed then. The Wealding King brought all the strangling heat and horror of the wood, grasping and grabbing. The zirraf answered with an ancient oath and the dying emptiness of the long dark night. There was no rejoinder. The zirraf walked across Avring's cold and brittle bones.

-----

- Nír took three students as his to tutor: Eslan, Arram, and Nivyas. For this bargain he was pardoned for his crimes, though he was bound by geas to bear the wicked scars of the oubliette so long as he should live. Eslan was scion to a great house and a place for him was bought. Arram was a slave and he won his by chance in lottery. Nivyas was no one in particular. For you see, even the wrack could not scourge Nír of his cleverness. And so he was granted one student of his own choosing, and in this his will could not be contested – for he had touched it to those same chains of geas and seeming.

He taught his pupils the Midani arts. Arturiscry first, that they might fortify body, mind and spirit against cruelty and hardship. Maniplas second, that in subtle ways reality should change itself to please them. Sorcery third, that the true power of the aether could be theirs to wield. -

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Hey everyone! So. There's still a few minor things that need to be done, but otherwise I think we are in good shape to proceed with Update Four. Orders will be due by the end of the day on Sunday, January 6th.

Space is still available, so if anyone wants to join feel free to contact me. If you need more information I'd be happy to provide it!